


Skin That's Mine

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (how is that a standard tag on here?), Bad Guys Made Them Do It, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, PWP, Prison, Prison Sex, acts like a bit of an outtake from a fic I'll never actually write, not sure what season its set in just go with it, relatively standard take on that trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: Barry's in prison and as a former CSI, not especially popular. Len protecting him (under the guise of hurting him) works fine until it doesn't.Short piece based on a tumblr prompt.





	Skin That's Mine

**Author's Note:**

> **The original prompt from tumblr:** I have to ask- even though I'm like 99% sure you won't do it- Coldflash "magic/meta made them do it"? Or even prison made them do it? I'd love to see a prison fic where Barry  & Len sleep together for Len to protect Barry, like maybe he loses his powers and it's post-Len learning his Flash identity (maybe right after Family of Rogues assuming Len didn't go to the meta wing?)
> 
>  
> 
>  **Obligatory disclaimer:** rape is objectively awful and the events herein fall are fictional in nature and should not be taken as a realistic portrayal. This fic plays more in the realm of 'rape fantasy' and is not an even somewhat realistic description of actual rape in the real world. Rape fantasies don’t make anyone a bad person, and so long as they clearly separate fiction and reality I encourage everyone to keep consuming their preferred media responsibly! The depiction of prison here is also not a realistic portrayal... blame Prison Break.

Barry was reading on his cot when Len bolted into their shared cell. Well, not bolted. He was too smooth for that, not actually running, but there was a rushed and tense energy about him, opposite to his usual languor.

Barry was sitting up and tense in an instant.

“Remember when I told you to trust me?” Len asked, eyes darting out to the gen pop area then back at Barry.

“Yeah,” he rasped. He remembered too well. His second night stuck in this cell with Snart after a terrifying first ‘full’ day in prison and it had become painfully clear he needed the man’s help, protection, reputation at his back. The roles they’d had to play since then had been more than worth it, considering, but Len had extracted a promise from Barry that he trust first and ask questions later, follow orders or he’d end up regretting it, and not because of Len.

“Put up a sheet.”

Barry scrambled to obey, tense. If that was all they had to do - it couldn’t be. He’d hung a sheet enough times already over the last month in here and it never made Len jumpy to pretend they were having sex behind it, actually just sitting on the bottom bunk.

But he didn’t ask, and the sheet was up in record time, and when he turned - 

Len was sitting on the bottom bunk, blue IHP shirt discarded, just in his white tank top, pants undone. Barry swallowed hard. 

“Sammi and Dollar’re pissed. Heard a rumor we don’t make enough noise when we fuck. Just got it off Walker. They’re on their way to claim you.”

Barry’s stomach turned to lead. Dollar was almost seven feet and three hundred pounds of solid muscle who had been eyeing Barry since the day he got here. Everyone wanted a piece of the CSI in prison for one reason or another but it was clear that so long as they thought Snart was using and abusing him and making him suffer, they wouldn’t kick up a fuss about him keeping exclusive access to his cellie. If Snart  _wasn't_  using him though...

There was a fleeting hope - gone as soon as it came because he crushed it down - that Snart's influence alone would be enough to scare them off, with or without evidence of violence against Barry. If that were true they'd have done it from day one, instead of playing this charade.

“ _Barry_ …” Len’s voice was strained and Barry heard them, then - Sammi’s voice not far off. He tapped the speedforce – always a danger in here, so many eyes on them all the time – and was in front of Len in an instant, on his knees, the man’s pants and underwear rucked down so he could pretend he’d been here a while and– 

“Get naked, you -  _fast_  –”

Red in the face, he did, a blur before any normal person could blink. Fast enough even he didn't have time to stop and think. And then he was there, nothing but skin, clothes scattered on the ground, and Len’s limp cock in his mouth. If he’d ever pictured giving Snart a blowjob, it wasn’t like this. Not with dread and fear curling around in his stomach but it didn’t matter. Len’s fingers threaded into his hair just in time.

“Well well well, what’d’we have here?”

Barry screwed his eyes shut when Len’s fingers tightened hard in his hair, preventing him from pulling back if even he wanted to.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something, gents. Or did you have urgent business?” Len drawled, completely cool and in control. Barry knew it was a lie, that he was as tense as Barry was, but he sneaked a glance up at Snart and he seemed completely calm on the surface.

“Just checking in,” Sammi said somewhere behind Barry, and Len twisted his hand in Barry’s hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, pet?”

Barry winced and swallowed around the cock in his mouth, starting to bob his head and suck. He hollowed out his cheeks and went for it, because if Snart had to stand up at any point, he was going to need to be hard.

“Would you look at all that smooth skin?” Dollar’s rough voice sounded even lower than usual and Barry felt his cheeks heating again. It was a weird combination of vulnerability and anger, this time, and was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to be naked. He tried to concentrate on sucking, keeping his teeth out the way. Len’s cock was hardening in his mouth finally and he swirled his tongue around it.

“Sure is a beaut,” Sammi agreed and Barry tried not to shudder at the undertone it carried. It didn't help that he was starting to gag, too much saliva in his mouth.

“Skin that’s  _mine_ , gentlemen, in case you’re looking for a fight.” Len’s voice carried ice in it and Barry honestly didn’t quite know  _how_ , considering he was hard enough Barry couldn't fit him all in his mouth anymore. He'd stopped pulling on Barry’s hair but kept a firm hand on the back of his head, pressing down, guiding him with an authority that had his cock hitting the back of Barry’s throat and making it impossible to breathe as often as not. Saliva started dribbling down his chin and he tried to swallow without choking.

“No fight, Snart.”

That was good. Barry almost relaxed by a fraction but Len pressed hard and made him gag. His eyes watered and he felt himself getting hard, dick sympathetic to the treatment he was giving Len's. Fuck. His stomach felt tight and hot.

“Just wanting a show,” Sammi added, “since we’re all here anyway.” Barry tensed when he heard him come closer. “Your boy doesn’t seem too well trained though.”

Len stopped and moved forward and Barry struggled to breathe as Len leaned closer and angrier toward Sammi. His fingers clenched and unclenched over Len's thighs. “You mind staying out of touching distance, Samuel?”

Barry heard a chuckle and a “don’t mean none by it” but didn’t hear the man move away and he resumed sucking, desperate to pretend he knew what he was doing when he hadn’t given more than a fumbled blowjob or three, years ago in college.

“Just saying Snart - if you’re not using him all that often, don’t see why you couldn’t let someone else take a turn, have a go? I’d be more’n happy to train him up for you, get rid of that gag reflex nice ‘n easy.”

Barry almost gagged again in sheer revulsion, pressing his mouth down as far as he could get it on Len’s cock. The whimper that escaped him wasn’t  _entirely_  for show (but more than fitting with the persona he took on in here).

“Thanks but no thanks, Sammi. I don’t share what’s rightfully mine.”

“He still yours if you don’t use him, Snart? Or should’e belong to someone’ll who show him a proper time?”

Len didn’t answer immediately and Barry busied himself with trying to breathe through his nose, which had seemed a lot easier before this started. Snart’s fingers drifted to the back of neck and gently squeezed. It was probably meant to look possessive but it felt more reassuring than anything. 

“Doll, stand up.”

Barry swallowed around Len’s cock convulsively but followed the command. He had no idea how he must look, wet swollen lips, trail of spit that he wiped at, flushed all the way down to his chest with shame. He was most of the way hard, telling himself it was a normal reaction. He couldn’t look at any of the three men in the room.

“Tell them how often I use you.”

At least that was an easy line to follow.

“Every day,” Barry rasped. “Every night.”

“Mmm, and tell them why we’re just getting started on your blowjob training?”

Barry's fists clenched tight. Great. Genius fucking Snart. “You were training other parts of me first.”

At least he knew how to pick up Snart’s breadcrumbs. And -  _ow_  - Snart spanked his ass for that, but laughed at the same time, a dry sort of chuckle.

“Any more insinuations you wanna make, Sammi, or are you good to leave me with what's mine?”

It still rankled, that he needed this protection at all. That he couldn't just speed Sammi and Dollar into - 

“You fucking him on the daily, Snart?” Dollar asked, speaking up for the first time in a while. Even Sammi seemed surprised.

Barry chanced a glance at Len, who went from confident to looking vaguely annoyed.

“I know you’re not the  _sharpest_  tool in the shed, Dollar, but that  _is_  what he just said.”

The man nodded and leaned against the wall. “So give us a show, huh? For our trouble?” He was tenting his jumpsuit and Barry’s stomach sank to the floor.

Len kept a cool and frowning facade on. “I don’t do private shows.”

But Sammi was looking suspicious again. It was probably an honest request from Dollar, who looked ready to jerk it to the live porno he’d walked into, but Sammi – who wasn’t actually that much smaller than Dollar, really – was a lot more suspicious by nature.

“Don’t or  _can’t,_ Snart? How loose is your little doll, anyway?” he cast a glance around the room. “Betcha haven’t even got any lube in here, huh.”

Len let out a growl and squeezed the flesh of Barry’s ass before smacking it again. “Doll, grab it, hmm?”

Thankfully, Barry actually knew where it was, moving across the small space to grab it from between some books. He got it and moved back to Len. Their eyes met for a second and Barry  _tried_  to convey trust and acceptance in his one chance to give Len a real expression. Len just looked steely, and somewhere under it, Barry thought he caught a glimpse of terror that was quickly masked.

He didn’t wait for Len to ask, just assumed a position on his knees, face in the pillow. The one thing he had going for him here was his pain tolerance. He might not know how to suck cock like a pro or look like it, but he could take Snart with or without prep and manage not to scream, he knew it. 

“You boys’re lucky I was in a good mood before you got here,” Len drawled, shifting on the mattress behind Barry and he blew out a breath when he felt something slick jab at his entrance, Len’s other hand stretching his asscheek to the side.

“Take a good look because I won’t provide any encores.” 

Obliging to Len’s words directed at the men, Barry spread his legs wider. He pictured all the ways he might speed through the cell to inflict the most damage on them, even felt the lightning start to rise up in veins. But giving up his identity to these assholes wasn't worth it, not even for this. So he willed himself not to give into the instinct to fight, to kick out, and ground his teeth instead. He was leaning on his elbows with his arms under the pillow, and at least he didn't have to look at them. He could hear both of them sniggering quietly, though, heard their clothes rustle.

Len didn’t, couldn’t, take his time. He started with two fingers and Barry willed himself to relax. His eyes leaked tears when a third was added after only a couple of thrusts – he hadn’t done this in so long, too long, but they couldn’t know that – and then all the fingers retreated.

Barry bit the pillow  _hard_  and groaned when Len’s cock pressed inside him. The first inch felt painful and the next few felt like a telephone pole. Len kept going, too, and Barry had known – obviously known – that the man was thick, that this wouldn’t be easy given his natural girth and length, but he didn’t expect to feel it so  _deep_  inside of him, like Len was carving out a heated spot deep in his body and like it wouldn’t fit, couldn't fit, was splitting him in two.

He gasped on the first thrust and groaned, pushing his face harder in the pillow but he responded anyway, let his hips do it on autopilot. It was a show, right? Had to make it look like he did this all the time. He swallowed around the crazed laughter that threatened to bubble up at the thought, at how strange his life had become and instead turned it into gasped breaths, let himself pant, breathing through the pain. Len’s fingers dug so hard into his hips he thought he might bruise.

It hurt, burned, but his body was already healing. He knew how to think around pain and this was nothing for his body to deal with next to fighting metas. His healing factor was making quick work of the  _hot bad wrong no_ feelings and when his legs started to spread wider, his hips tilting more, Len’s cock pressed along his prostate and it felt weird but not painful. It was too much, still way too much, but all too fast his body was adjusting.

Barry’s moans started to feel real. Fuck, they _were_ real. He was moaning and he bit the pillow to stop himself, rolling up to meet Len’s thrusts, cheeks wet with tears and hot with something else now.

“I think your boy likes it, Snart.” Sammi’s voice sounded pleased, thank fucking god, not that Barry wanted the reminder of their audience. He groaned and shifted the angle of his hips so that each thrust brought Len along his prostate. It was full and deep and hurt and  _shit_ \- he was getting hard.

“Told you,” Len gasped out, and Barry realized he’d barely made a sound this whole time aside from laboured breathing, “got him trained.”

Barry shivered. Shouldn’t’ve but did anyway, gasping out a quiet, “ _fuck”_ as the words shot straight to his cock.

Now that he was hard, it was almost too much. He was aching to just press himself against the mattress and rut. Would it be bad form to get a hand on himself? He wasn’t  _supposed_ to get off, he was pretty sure. Between his healing and his sensitivity, Len’s hands hot against his hips - he was.

Then one of those hands smacked against his ass, more his hip really, and Barry started. “Tell our guests how you like it.”

Fuck, really, Snart? Barry shuddered, pushing himself back on the man’s cock. “I– I like it.” He bit his lip hard, eyes screwed shut. The other men groaned and made comments about Barry that made his ears red at the tips.

Len leaned over his back, “tell me, Barry.” His voice was hot and sultry and Barry shivered again,  _wanting_.

“Feels so good, Snart. Just you. Want it, you - It’s–  _ah –”_

Len’s thrusts sped up and his hips were an angry staccato against Barry’s, deep and hard and he groaned, feeling completely impaled on Len’s cock. His own cock twitched in sympathy, on the edge of orgasm even though he couldn't touch himself.

"Gonna - fuck, coming - "

Len thrust in right against his prostate and it was too much, too much feeling him empty himself inside Barry. He gasped in response, whole body shuddering as he clutched the sheet and started to cum dry. It took him by surprise, senses going haywire, just enough cum for it to dribble down his cock. His body twitched and tightened around the cock inside it and Len stayed inside him until he was empty but Barry was still twitching, panting out breaths when Len pulled back.

He honestly didn’t think any of the other men even noticed he came when his body calmed down a minute later. Sammi and Dollar had finished up before Snart even did, their own filthy words getting them there, and they were thanking him for his hospitality, eyeing Barry’s prone form on the bed hungrily but Snart sent them off with a growl and a reminder that he wouldn’t be so accommodating in the future.

Barry swallowed hard when they were gone, trying to remind his limbs how to move so that he could sit up. He didn’t get there though by the time he heard the toilet flush then water running, and finally felt a cool wet cloth against his skin. He started in shock at the touch, halfway to dozing.

“ _Shit_  that’s cold.”

“Sorry,” Len retreated immediately but Barry groaned.

“No it’s - it beats the hell out of getting cum all over my bunk.”

The cloth returned and Barry took it this time, cleaned himself up and sat, flushing when he could feel more of it seep out. He finally stood and finished up, glad Snart was making a show of getting dressed and taking his sweet time so he didn’t have to feel self-conscious about cleaning up with an audience. He splashed water on this face too and finally moved to dress.

He groaned at the ache in his muscles just from bending into his underwear. “Jesus.”

“Barry I’m –” Len started then looked away when Barry looked at him. He had tension in every line of his body.

Oh. Oh hell no. 

Barry dropped his jumpsuit and moved into Len’s space, slow like he would a scared animal. “Hey, whoa, Snart - I’m  _okay._ It’s fine.”

“It’s not  _fine,_ Barry,” he snapped, stepping back. “I raped you.”

Barry swallowed and shook his head. “No more than I raped you, Snart.We did what we had to do. I’m okay. I’m sore; I won’t be in two hours. You were  _protecting me_  and I know that. The last thing I want is for someone like Sammi or Dollar to  _ever_  have an excuse to touch me and you did what you did to make sure they wouldn’t.”

Len eyed him then, jaw still so tight and tense, arms still across his chest, crossed but more like he was hugging himself, really. 

“You…” he sighed but his body relaxed and he glanced away. “I’m no hero, Barry. I enjoyed that too much to play the victim.”

Barry’s throat constricted. He  _knew_  he was a victim, but that didn’t stop his body from being on board with half of that, most of it. But Len hadn’t spent years in a police precinct or taking criminology classes to help him separate between ‘consent’ and ‘pleasure’. 

So he scratched the back of his head and went for broke. “So if I enjoyed it, then I’m not a victim?”

“Of course you’re the victim,” Len snapped, eyes narrow.

“If we go by my rules, where we couldn’t consent under duress? Yeah. We both were. But if we go by yours, then neither of us are, because we both got off.”

Len’s eyes went wide and Barry was right, he hadn’t known. “You…”

“Came? Yeah. Right after you did.  _Because_ you did.” He was feeling self-conscious and pulled on the rest of his clothes fast while Len processed that.

“Thought I hurt you, Barry,” Len finally said, voice still with the drawl but a little too raw to be sardonic.

Barry shrugged a little, not quite sure what to say. Len did hurt him, but not in the way he was probably thinking. “I hurt. I heal. I’m sensitive in all the embarrassing ways. And I don’t blame you for any of it. You saved me from them.”

Len nodded and Barry sighed. They’d get there. They were both keyed up and tired at once, but they’d get there.

“Can I take down the sheet, now?”

“Be my guest.”

“And Len?”

“Mm?”

“I’m glad it was you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly? I feel like this is an outtake that would fit much better situated into a longer fic. But I've already got enough "x-made them do it" noncon fics (But Needs Must As The Devil Drives, and two as-yet unpublished but in the works ones) and don't need to beat a dead horse by writing another 40,000+ word story where they navigate this shit. So uh, an outtake with an implied larger context is all we get? 
> 
> Anyway, posting this is a result of trying to clear out all my old tumblr drabbles and get them posted properly, with any over ~2000 getting their own piece. Hope you enjoyed it, assuming this trope is your jam. And if you did, feel free to check out my other works :)


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